


Mirror, Mirror

by OnTheTurningAway



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-30
Updated: 2011-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:36:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnTheTurningAway/pseuds/OnTheTurningAway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://mark-eduardo.livejournal.com/368440.html?thread=2332216#t2332216">this</a> prompt at mark_eduardo Prompt Fest: Established relationship; Eduardo realizes just how deep Mark's self-image insecurities run and Eduardo tries to show him how beautiful he thinks Mark is. Basically, body worship. In front of a mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror, Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on characters in the film The Social Network. Not real, no profit made.
> 
> Note: This got a little pornier than I originally planned, but what can I say, Eduardo really loves Mark's body! Thanks to arcadianmaggie for the quick beta.
> 
> koala84 has done a Chinese translation of this story which can be found on [this forum](http://mtslash.com/viewthread.php?tid=75118).

\---

Mark freezes when he hears the alarm system chirp, indicating that the front door has been opened. He listens intently to the newly familiar sounds of Eduardo entering their home.  
  
Sometimes Mark can’t believe how much has changed since Harvard and his first year in Palo Alto. Gone are the days when Mark would spend countless hours at the office without a second thought. Emergencies still occasionally arise and sometimes he has to stay late, but that has become the exception instead of the norm.  
  
Facebook is still a huge part of Mark’s life, but it’s no longer the only thing, or even the most important thing, in it. He’s learned that delegating doesn’t have to mean relinquishing control – not if you have the right people working with you. Now, Mark is the first one home most nights and works from the sofa or his desk while he waits for Eduardo to arrive. It’s one of the many ways Mark has mellowed, how things have changed, since.  
  
 _Since._  
  
It’s such a simple word, but one Mark takes very seriously, especially where Wardo is concerned. Years have passed since the dissolution of their partnership, years spent avoiding each other at all costs and pretending the other didn’t exist.  
  
They owe their current state of happiness to a chance run-in at a sushi restaurant in New York (they laugh at the irony, now). Their reconciliation was a slow and careful process, fraught with horribly awkward, and often angry, e-mails and phone calls. In the beginning neither was truly certain it was even possible, but after exchanging apologies and surviving a few bitter arguments, they began to spend countless hours getting to know one another again. Almost a year later, Mark took an impromptu trip to Singapore and surprised Eduardo with a kiss. Trips became more frequent after that and a few months later, they broke the news to their family and friends and Eduardo made the decision to move back to the States.  
  
It’s only been three months since they bought their place and began to make it their home, but Mark has grown fond of listening to Wardo’s end-of-day routine. First comes the clatter of keys being dropped into the bowl on the table in the entryway. Next is the gentle thud of Wardo setting down his briefcase. A beat of silence follows (Wardo removing his shoes) before Mark hears the tell-tale sound of Wardo shuffling down the hall in his sock feet.  
  
On any other day, Mark would smile to himself and take pleasure in this unabashed evidence of their domesticity.  
  
On any other day, but not today. Today, they had planned to meet at the hotel where Eduardo’s business reception is being held.  
  
Today, Mark is supposed to have more time.  
  
Ordinarily, Eduardo stops to drink a glass of water, pokes his head into Mark’s office to say hello and then goes to their bedroom to change out of his suit. Mark thinks he will have enough time to jump in the shower, until he sees Wardo standing in the doorway. A look of shock crosses his face when he sees the piles of trousers, shirts and jackets strewn across their bed.  
  
“What happened in here?” Eduardo says.  
  
The sound of Mark dropping something onto the bathroom counter startles them both. Just as Eduardo begins to look toward the bathroom, Mark panics and shuts the door.  
  
Mark remains silent even after he hears Wardo again, louder this time, right on the other side of the door. He turns on the taps, fills his palms with soap and begins scrubbing at his hands and face furiously.  
  
“Nothing happened,” Mark answers. “I was just trying to find something to wear.”  
  
The sound of Eduardo’s amused laughter makes Mark cringe. He freezes when Eduardo tries to turn the doorknob.  
  
“Mark? Let me in?”  
  
“Go away, Wardo,” Mark says.  
  
“Go away?” Eduardo echoes, confused. “What are you– Jesus Mark! Is that blood?”  
  
Mark looks up and sees brownish fingerprints smeared along the doorframe.  
  
“I’m not bleeding, Wardo. I’m fine. Stop overreacting,” he snaps. He can picture a hurt look on Eduardo’s face and feels ashamed for being so harsh. “Listen, I just. I can’t go with you tonight. I was going to call you. I didn’t expect you to come home first, so you might as well get dressed and go without me.”  
  
“What? Mark.” Eduardo wiggles the doorknob more firmly. His tone is more annoyed than worried now. “Mark! I’m not going anywhere, so open the door and tell me what the hell is going on.”  
  
“Shit,” Mark whispers.  
  
Eduardo must hear him, because his tone softens when he speaks again.  
  
“Mark, please come out,” Eduardo says. “It looks like a tornado blew through here, and I’m not convinced this isn’t blood. You’re scaring the shit out of me.”  
  
Mark counts to ten.  
  
Then to twenty.  
  
He is about to start over when he realizes he’s being ridiculous, locking himself in the bathroom like a hysterical teenager.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he squares his shoulders before flipping the lock.  
  
Eduardo pushes the door open and Mark levels him with a flat, calculating look – the one that used to cut right through Eduardo, before he learned it was Mark’s defense mechanism.  
  
“Mark?” Eduardo asks, almost speechless.  
  
Embarrassed, it only takes a moment for Mark’s bravado to crumble and he has to turn away. He hunches his slender frame over the counter, but it does little to hide the mess. He watches Eduardo in the mirror and sees his eyes widen as he takes in the scene. Mark’s soapy hands grip the sink edge, causing wet, brown streaks to smear against the white surface and run down toward the drain in sudsy clumps. An assortment of products clutter the countertop and Mark follows Eduardo’s gaze as it travels to his tube of hair gel and pot of facial moisturizer before zeroing in on a bottle of cheap self-tanning foam.  
  
And then Eduardo’s eyes lock with Mark’s reflection. Eduardo stares, open-mouthed, and Mark stares back.  
  
Mark is humiliated.  
  
He’s never been more aware of the inadequacies in his appearance than at this moment. Eduardo looks perfect and gorgeous, even after a long day at the office. In contrast, Mark looks a lot like a child who has been caught playing with his mother’s cosmetics. His curls are limp and heavy with product, one side flatter than the other thanks to a too-liberal dose of anti-frizz spray. His normally pale cheeks are flushed with embarrassment and marred with orange streaks. Mortified, he expects Eduardo to give him a pitying look or to try and make light of the situation. He hopes Eduardo doesn’t laugh at him, even though it would be completely understandable.  
  
Mark thinks anything would be better than the oppressive silence though – until Eduardo turns and walks out of the room.  
  
He doesn’t go far. Mark can see Wardo standing by the window talking animatedly on his cell phone, though he’s speaking too quietly for Mark to hear what he’s saying.  
  
A few moments later, Eduardo returns to the bathroom, dims the lights and steps around Mark to turn on the shower.  
  
He turns to face Mark and grasps the hem of his tee shirt, silently asking if he can remove it. Mark shrugs, and then raises his arms over his head like a child. Mark’s shorts and boxers go next and then Wardo guides him under the hot spray. He quickly sheds his own clothes, grabs a washcloth and slips into the shower behind Mark.  
  
Mark is waiting for Eduardo to say something, but he just places a quick kiss on Mark’s shoulder before gently tipping Mark’s head under the water. Once the water has saturated Mark’s hair, Wardo adds a healthy dollop of shampoo. He massages Mark’s scalp and runs his fingers through his curls, washing away the residue from all of the product Mark had used. After a quick application of conditioner, Eduardo squeezes some of his facial cleanser into the washcloth and rubs it gently over Mark’s face. He uses a little more force on Mark’s cheeks and Mark is pleased to see the remnants of the poorly applied tanning lotion come away on the cloth. Next, Eduardo adds body wash to the cloth and scrubs Mark from the top of his shoulders down to the tips of his toes. Mark wishes he could enjoy the decadence of Eduardo’s attentiveness but he’s too embarrassed to relax.  
  
“There,” Eduardo whispers, gently kissing Mark’s freshly scrubbed cheek. “Much better.”  
  
He hands Mark a fluffy towel and tells him he’ll be right out. Mark wraps the towel tightly around his waist, shuffling out of the bathroom and over to the bed. He fights the urge to flee and pushes the mess of clothing aside so he has somewhere to sit. When he hears Eduardo turn off the shower, Mark trains his eyes on the floor. Eduardo makes his way over and kneels in front of him, hands rubbing gently over Mark’s towel-clad thighs.  
  
“Mark,” he says softly. “Please tell me what’s going on.”  
  
Mark takes a deep breath. He considers trying to make light of the situation by telling Eduardo he was trying something new, but they’ve come so far and Mark knows he needs to be honest. It doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. “I was trying to make myself look better for your event tonight.”  
  
“What? What are you talking about? You go to these things all the time–” Eduardo begins.  
  
“It’s different,” Mark says. He thinks it will be easier to say it all at once, so he rushes to get the rest out. “People know what to expect of me when I’m representing Facebook, Wardo. To a lot of them, I’m still ‘Mark Zuckerberg, teenage genius and resident asshole’ from years ago. They know I don’t give a shit about meeting the right people or impressing anyone. Most of the time, they just want my money. But this...this is the first time we’re going to one of y _our_ business events together and I wanted to look good. For you.”  
  
Silence hangs heavily in the air, causing Mark to tuck his chin tighter to his chest.  
  
“Mark,” Eduardo says softly. “Hey. Don’t you know that you  _always_  look good to me?”  
  
Mark laughs bitterly. “Wardo. We promised we’d be honest with each other, remember?”  
  
“I am being honest!” Eduardo says. He lets out a little huff of frustration, gets to his feet and holds his hands out to Mark. “Come with me. Please?”  
  
Eduardo walks them over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room and positions Mark in front of it. After making sure his towel is still on tight, Mark crosses his arms over his chest, trying to feel less exposed. Eduardo wraps his arms snugly around Mark’s waist.  
  
“You do, Mark, even when you’re exhausted or have spent far too many hours at the office and are dirty and rumpled. You’re not the same geeky nineteen year old I first met at Harvard and–”  
  
Mark tries to twist away, but Eduardo has a firm grip on his torso. “And, as I was saying, it wouldn’t matter if you were. That nineteen year old ‘geek’ was the star of many of my fantasies and he’s the person I fell in love with. You were adorable then and you’re still gorgeous now, Mark.”  
  
Mark blushes. “I’m not fishing for compliments. I know I’m smart and successful, but you…you’re fucking perfect, Wardo, and I’m just this skinny, curly-haired nerd. Just…” He closes his eyes and pauses. “It’s not easy being the unattractive one in a relationship. Look at yourself, and then look at me.”  
  
Eduardo leans over and rests his chin on Mark’s shoulder. “I am, Mark. I am looking at you, and at us, but we’re obviously not seeing the same thing.”  
  
He turns to kiss the side of Mark’s neck, eyelashes tickling Mark’s skin.  
  
“Mark, will you let me show you what I see?” Eduardo asks.  
  
Mark wishes he’d never said anything and could brush it off, but Wardo looks so damn  _earnest_  he just nods in silent assent.  
  
“No interruptions until I’m finished, okay?” Eduardo asks.  
  
Mark rolls his eyes. “Fine. Let’s get this pity party over with.”  
  
Eduardo gives Mark a pointed look, but continues.  
  
“Did I ever tell you I used to wonder what your hair felt like?” he asks. “I did, all the time, at Harvard. When we used to crash on your bed, I would wake up and have to restrain myself from reaching out and touching it while you were sleeping.”  
  
Mark can’t help giving Eduardo’s reflection an incredulous look.  
  
“I did! Your hair is so soft – much softer than I thought it would be – and I love that I’m the only one who gets to do this now.” He pauses to run his fingers through Mark’s damp hair, letting the curls spring back into place as they slip through. Mark shivers involuntarily.  
  
“God Mark, when I saw you in Palo Alto that first time? With your hair a little golden from the sun? I could barely stand it.” Eduardo nuzzles his face into the back of Mark’s head and breathes deeply. “Your hair is one of the first things I loved about you, and now I get to wake up wrapped around you every day with your curls tickling my nose.”  
  
“Can I say something – if it’s not negative?” Mark asks.  
  
“Fine, but I reserve the right to tell you to be quiet if I don’t like what I’m hearing,” Eduardo answers.  
  
“I like it. In the mornings,” Mark admits. “Sometimes I’m awake before you, but I try to stay still because I like it when you wake up all warm and sleepy and breathe into the back of my hair.”  
  
Mark blushes at his confession. He tries to tip his head back down toward his chest, but Eduardo gently catches his chin and gives Mark one of his impossibly fond smiles. “Good. I like it too,” he says simply.  
  
Eduardo reaches up to loosen Mark’s crossed arms from his chest and places them at his sides. He runs his hands down Mark’s arms from shoulder to wrist, and then down the sides of Mark’s torso, resting gently on Mark’s hips.  
  
“I love your body, Mark,” he says. I love how slim you are and how you sometimes get lost in your baggy clothes. It makes me feel like I get to be in on a secret, that no one else gets to see what’s hidden underneath except me.”  
  
“I do wear shorts, you know. Plenty of people have seen my skinny legs,” Mark retorts.  
  
“Mmm…yes. I know. And I don’t bug you about wearing them very often, do I?” Eduardo asks. “I can’t help it, and I especially like when I stop by your office and get to watch you scurrying around fixing some emergency in your little shorts. Why do you think I keep asking you if you want to go running with me?”  
  
Mark laughs and starts to respond, but Wardo nips at his earlobe and slips his fingertips under the edge of Mark’s towel before continuing.  
  
“As I was saying, I love how thin you are – how we both are.” Eduardo nudges closer and rubs his thumbs over Mark’s hip bones. “Don’t you see how beautiful your body is, Mark? How perfectly all of our sharp angles fit together? Just because you’re thin doesn’t mean you aren’t strong, either. I love feeling your arms wrapped tightly around me when you hold me close to you.”  
  
Mark flushes under the attention, but leans back and presses closer to Eduardo’s chest. Eduardo drags his hands up Mark’s body, stopping briefly to rub his thumbs over Mark’s nipples.  
  
“There it is,” Wardo says quietly. “Your skin is so perfect, Mark, surprisingly soft and so pale with just a hint of pink.”  
  
“Wardo,” Mark begins. “I am white as a ghost. The pink you’re so fond of is called sunburn and it happens every time I’m out in the sun for more than five minutes. Trust me, it’s nothing to envy.”  
  
“No interrupting!” Eduardo says playfully, tweaking Mark’s nipple.  
  
“The pink I was referring to is this,” he says, fingers tracing the path of Mark’s blush from his cheek to the base of his neck. “It happens when you’re cold, excited, or nervous, but also when you’re turned on. It tells me so much about how you’re feeling, without you having to say anything. I’m always so hot and your skin feels so good pressed up against mine, even when it’s your icy fingers or toes, trying to get warm.”  
  
“Guilty as charged,” Mark says with a smile.  
  
“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” Eduardo says. “It’s just one of the things that makes us a perfect balance.”  
  
Mark licks his lips and hums in agreement.  
  
“You have the most beautiful mouth,” Eduardo says, tilting Mark’s face toward him for a slow, wet kiss. “I used to lie on your bed in Kirkland, when you were wired in and giving your project your full attention, and watch you lick and bite at your lips for hours. Most of those times you thought I was asleep, I was probably curled up trying to keep you seeing how hard I was from fantasizing about those red, bitten lips stretched around my cock. I still think about it, even though I’m lucky enough to know that reality is so much better than any fantasy I’ve ever had.”  
  
Self-conscious, Mark’s tongue peeks out, but Wardo just laughs softly and kisses the corner of his mouth.  
  
Next, Eduardo runs his hands back down the length of Mark’s arms to cover his hands. He threads his fingers through Mark’s, brings their joined hands up to his lips and kisses his palms.  
  
“Not that long ago, a new business acquaintance asked what my partner did for a living and without thinking, I told him you were an artist.”  
  
Mark snorts. “Wardo, have you ever seen me do anything artistic? Ever?”  
  
“Mmhmm. Every day,” Eduardo answers. “You are an artist. And these…” He pauses to kiss Mark’s fingertips. “These are your tools. You are so creative, Mark. Think about all you’ve done with these hands, the hours you’ve spent pouring your ideas out through your fingertips. These hands have changed the world.”  
  
Mark wants to refute what Wardo is saying, but somehow can’t come up with anything to say.  
  
“I bet people think you have calloused fingertips, but I love how soft and smooth they are from constantly moving over your keyboard.” Wardo leans in close and speak softly in Mark’s ear. “I love your hands. When we first got together, I used to love to watch you explore my body, determined to find all of my most sensitive spots. And I don’t think I need to tell you how much I love it when your fingers twist and pull my hair, or trail lightly over my skin, even when I’m too sensitive to be touched.”  
  
Eduardo’s breathing speeds up and Mark feels his growing erection against his ass, even through the two thick towels they’re still wearing.  
  
“God, Mark. You have no idea how much I love your fingers deep inside me, working me open, getting me ready for you.”  
  
Mark’s breath hitches. His own erection is pushing uncomfortably against the front of his towel and he tries to turn around to face Eduardo.  
  
“Not done yet,” Eduardo says breathlessly. He pulls off his towel to lessen the distance between them, but swats Mark’s hand away when he tries to remove his own.  
  
“C’mon, Wardo,” Mark whines.  
  
Eduardo slides his fingers along Mark’s waist, dipping lower and feeling Mark’s bare skin. His hips shift forward involuntarily before he undoes Mark’s towel and tosses it to the floor. His fingers immediately wrap around Mark’s dick and he presses himself up against Mark’s back from shoulder to knee.  
  
“Do you want to hear more, Mark? Do you want me to tell you how much I love your cock? How I love to watch you get hard and how much it makes my mouth water? It’s perfect – long and curved slightly to the left, just enough to be in the perfect spot when you’re pounding into me.”  
  
Eduardo’s hand begins to move in long, firm strokes, using the moisture at the tip of Mark’s dick and the residual dampness from their shower to ease his movements.  
  
“Do you know how perfect your ass is? Jesus, Mark. Your ass drives me crazy,” Eduardo pants into Mark’s neck. “I always call second shower because I want to watch your bare ass when you walk to the bathroom. There is nothing better than spreading you wide open and getting my tongue in as deep as it will go. Nothing better, except when I slip my cock inside you and feel how tight you are around me.”  
  
Mark’s dick pulses in Eduardo’s hand, more pre-come bubbling up out of the tip. Eduardo swipes his fingers through it and uses it to help slick his own erection.  
  
“Or when you’re fucking into me, slow and lazy, teasing me because you know I love it, and I dig my heels into your ass to get you to go deeper, harder.”  
  
Eduardo groans into the crook of Mark’s neck and tries to match the movements of his hand to the stutter-slide pace of his cock between Mark’s cheeks.  
  
“Fuck, Wardo.”  
  
“Mark, look,” Eduardo says. “Do you see how gorgeous you are? How crazy you make me? I dreamed about having my hands on you for  _years_ , Mark, even when I hated myself for wanting you so badly.”  
  
Mark stares at their reflection in the mirror, and can’t deny how perfect they look together. He can barely focus, Eduardo keeping him right on the edge of coming, but he forces himself to look closely.  
  
His hair is wild and curly, and his skin flushed pink all the way down his chest, but Eduardo is right. So many things about them are different – their skin, their hair, how Mark still sees Wardo as long and lean in comparison to his skinny, bony self – but together, they are beautiful. And even though he still doesn’t like everything he sees when he looks at himself, Mark  _can_  see some of what Wardo has shown him.  
  
And even more important, he looks past all of that to how fucking  _happy_  he looks, how happy they look together.  
  
“Yeah, Wardo. Yeah, I see,” Mark gasps. He feels like his entire body is on fire, hot and tight and  _so close._  Arching his back and grinding his ass back against Wardo’s dick, Mark turns his head to capture Wardo’s lips with his own. The angle is awkward but Mark is desperate for any contact he can get. He sucks Wardo’s full bottom lip into his mouth and bites down.  
  
Eduardo twists his hand over the head of Mark’s dick, flicking the underside with his thumb, and Mark is gone, painting the mirrored glass with his come. Wardo barely manages to stroke him through it, then digs his fingers into Mark’s hips and comes all over his ass.  
  
After they finally catch their breath, Mark kisses Wardo, slow and soft. Then he turns and walks toward the bathroom, laughing when he sees Wardo watching his ass.  
  
“Where are you going?” Eduardo asks.  
  
“Shower, and you’re coming too,” he replies, holding out his hand. “Right after you pick out something for me to wear.”  
  
Eduardo’s eyes widen and his face lights up with a warm, delighted smile. “Yeah?”  
  
Mark smiles mischievously. “You better hurry, and no more distractions or we’ll never make it to the hotel.”  
  
  
-End-


End file.
